POTC: How it all Began
by Willowred
Summary: We all know what happens in the end but what about in the beginning? Find out how Jack met Barbossa, and events leading up to the mutiny aboard The Black Pearl, set eight to ten years ish before the movie..... please R&R! COMPLETE! Huzzah!
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1 – Tortuga Tavern**

The island of Tortuga meant different things to different people. To some, it was a hellish place, full of diseased and rotting people, people you couldn't trust and would probably steal from you and double cross you at the first given opportunity. There were no genuine friends in Tortuga. People were too drunk to be trusted and quite often too drunk to even hold a decent conversation. Really, in all honesty, the place was best avoided.

To others, it was a great place, full of taverns and pleasurable company if you so wished. No ties, no rules and no regulations – a place of fun, freedom and madness.

But to Jack Sparrow it was neither of these things. To Jack Sparrow it represented a haven. Somewhere to spend a few days between voyages at sea where no one would bother him, save for the odd drunken brawl. He had recently made quite a name for himself and the British Navy in particular would have been quite interested to catch up with him. And they were certainly not alone. So Tortuga was a great place to hide out and relax for a few days, recruit part of, or a whole new crew if needed and blend in with folk much louder, drunker and wilder than Captain Jack Sparrow was.

Jack smiled to himself as he recalled some of his recent adventures and took a large sip from the rum on his table. Not the best he had ever tasted, not by a long chalk, but it would serve its purpose, he supposed. He grinned as his friend slipped into the seat opposite with an equally large jug of ale.

"And where have you been for the last half hour I wonder?" Jack asked the man. William Turner leant forward over the table and flashed a quick look left and right to ensure no one was close enough to hear them. No worries there then– anyone who was close enough was too drunk to care.

"Do you see the man over there Jack? In the corner, look." Jack blinked and tried to regain his focus as he glanced over to the corner William was referring to. It was difficult to see anything clearly in this tavern which was lit only by candlelight. Three young women were dancing just across from where the two men were sitting, one was helping another on top of the table and she waved at Jack as she stood straight up and then wobbled, as the table legs were obviously not all the same size, and god only knows how much ale she had drank. Her two friends danced round the table and all three were singing a song that, to be fair, they did not seem to know all the words to, as three different sets of lyrics were being sung,or shouted across the room. Two men nearby were engaging in something that resembled a conversation of sorts, and broke into a barrage of shouting, before they laughed loudly and then after clinking their jugs together in some sort of toast, huddled together, as if plotting. Jack himself had a leg propped up on an unconscious man who was lying on the floor, half under the table and half sprawled around one of its legs, causing many a drunken fool to trip over him. The bar was full of loud, drunken men and women, the balcony which allowed those on the first floor to join in with the merriment in the bar, was equally full and every now and again someone would fall off this, or be thrown off it more likely, along with the odd stool or other piece of furniture. Sitting in the main area near the bar itself was actually quite a dangerous option but so far Jack and William had managed to avoid injury.

In the far corner of the bar, almost tucked away out of sight, sat a man huddled over his drink. He was sitting alone and seemed to have an almost ghostly appearance about him, especially in this dimly lit room. It was difficult to see anything clear about him at all, since he was wearing dark, very dirty clothes and a large hat which was pulled down at one side and covered part of his face. His lank, greasy, brown hair hung down past his shoulders and obscured most of his features. He was sitting hunched over his drink which he was holding onto with both hands, as if it might be spirited away if he let go. Although he was facing the noisy crowd, he did not interact with anyone, nor did anyone else seem to notice him. He didn't move, except to take the odd swig from his drink. Other than that, he quietly watched the madness unfold around him, like some ghostly observer. Jack looked at him for a few seconds and then turned back to William.

"I see the man Bill. What of him?"

William checked left and right again and leaned so far forward his nose almost touched Jack's. Jack squinted and shifted back slightly, the rum had taken its hold now and affected Jack's vision to the point that he could almost clearly see two Williams sitting opposite him. One of them was clearer than the other, who had taken onsomewhat ofablurred appearance. It was the clearer William that Jack decided to focus on.

"Rumour is that that man is looking for passage on a ship to Isla de Muerta. He's been here for three nights, talks to no-one and just sits there, staring into his ale." William shuddered as he continued, "There's an unnatural air about that man, you mark my words."

Jack took another swig of rum, unconcerned,"This worries you my friend?"

William shook his head in disbelief. "Doesn't it worry YOU Jack? You've been chasing this legend for the last two years, save for that spell with East India." Jack shuddered at the memory. "All of a sudden, man such as that turns up, just when you have the bearings? You don't think that's odd?"

Jack twirled the compass around in his coat pocket thoughtfully with his hand. As he did so, his coat sleeve rubbed on his wrist and he winced as it caught his newest "tattoo" – a P branded onto his arm, courtesy of the damn East India company.

Jack leaned back on his chair and then jumped forward again, meeting his friend across the table.

"A man such as that holds no worries for me William," he stated, with a dismissive wave of his hand. "The island cannot be found except by those who already know where it is. Now that I have the bearings, we will soon be upon the treasure of Cortes himself. Although," he added, "Perhaps he could do with a little treasure eh? Man such as that, obviously down on his luck." Jack nodded towards the man and looked across towards him as he spoke. As he did so he noticed the table was empty and all that remained was an empty jug. Jack's dark eyes darted around the bar to catch sight of the man, however there was no sign. He shrugged and drank the remains of his rum before staggering to the bar to order another.

As he waited patiently to gain the attention of the bartender, a strong hand suddenly gripped Jack's wrist. He did not try to pull away, instead he turned towards the newcomer and met the eyes of the man he had seen sitting in the corner a few moments earlier. Close up, he was around the same size as Jack, slightly heavier and about ten or fifteen years older, although it was difficult to tell exactly as his face was dirty and weathered. He could have been much younger but tough experiences or a hard life had aged him. He had cruel, but focussed eyes and a grip of a man who was actually much stronger than he looked in his present state.

"Ye'll be Jack Sparrow?" The man enquired, it was more of a statement than a question.

Jack grinned a slightly lopsided grin, "Well now, that would depend on the man who is doing the askin." Jack was aware that the man's grip on his wrist had not lessened any, however he declined to pull away at this point.

The man smiled, however it was a smile that remained firmly at the mouth and did not reach his eyes. Jack thought it was really more of a sneer.

"The name is not important boy. Three days and nights I have been sittin' here waitin' for yeh." He nodded towards the barman, "Smith here told me of your impending visit and Scarlett over there has told me many a tale about yeh to keep me amused." Jack glanced over to the girl dancing on the table. Wearing a red dress and with flame red hair, he doubted her real name was Scarlett and was probably just a nickname. She saw him look and waved again, obviously pleased to gain his attention, even if for a moment. Scarlett. Jack had spent a few evenings with her over the last few years, looking her up whenever he was in Tortuga. Shame though, that she couldn't keep quiet about him, always a problem with girls like that. She wouldn't repeat the legends, the stories of the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow, no none of that, more the information he wasn't so keen to let out - where he was, where he had been and when he was coming back. Too loud and excitable, givewomen a bit of attention and they forgot their place. Scarlett sometimes followed him around like a lost cabin boy and it was no coincidence she was in this verytavern tonight, dancing on the table like a showgirl. He sighed, and tried to re-focus on the man holding onto his wrist for dear life. A difficult task thanks to the pesky rum.

"Well may I enquire as to what you want with me my good man? If I'm worth waiting around for for three days, it must be of high importance." Jack pulled very slightly on his wrist. It didn't move, the man had a grip like a vice.

Smith, the barman put two jugs of rum down onto the bar. The mystery man touched his hat in gratitude and Smith nodded and moved away. The man had not paid for the drinks. "Interesting," Jack thought.

Quick as a flash, the man pulled up Jack's coat sleeve to reveal his Sparrow tattoo and the new "P" which was still red and inflamed.

"So are the stories true lad? Vanished under the watchful eye of seven agents of the East India company?"

Jack smiled, unable to resist the temptation to brag even to a stranger, "They will always remember the day they almost caught Captain Jack Sparrow friend." He took a swig of rum with his free hand and pulled his sleeve back down. There was no knowing who might be watching – a branded pirate was not something to be advertised, not even in a Totuga tavern.

The man released his grip on Jack's wrist and Jack quickly pulled away instinctively. Something about this man made Jack feel a little nervous, and this was not usual for Captain Sparrow who prided himself on remaining happily un-phased during most encounters. The man drew closer to Jack so that they were face to face. His eyes bore into Jack's like burning irons, and he stank to high heaven. The rum Jack had been drinking was still working well and it was all he could do to stop himself swaying backwards, however he slightly shifted his weight to put a little distance between himself and this man, and he managed a quick glance behind the man to see William still sitting at the table where Jack had left him. Jack's friend was watching like a hawk but he had remained in position – typical William Turner, always ready. Even with a barrel full of rum inside him, the man was ready to leap into action at any time to get his friend's back. Jack knew he would stayput to watch events unfold.

"I need passage on your ship boy. Rumours tell me you are in possession of the bearings to Isla de Muerta."

So what William had said was true. He knew. Jack shrugged casually. "That may or may not be true but I would ask you this…." He held up a dirty finger and pointed to his companion's face. "Why a Captain such as myself would be willing or wanting to take you along on any such venture? I see no profit in it for me."

The man's face suddenly changed and became softer for a split second. His eyes narrowed and he moved in again so that his face was an inch from Jack's. "I know yeh here lookin for new crew for this venture o' yours. I have two fine gents with me who work hard and would follow me to tha ends of the earth yeh might say. Name me your first mate and I'll bring em' aboard with me, I've got years of experience and I can hold my own. I've fallen on hard times yeh might say, lookin' to change my luck somewhat."

Jack was suspicious. The man seemed strange and dark, he probably had a hidden agenda and no doubt couldn't be trusted. But Jack liked to try and see the best in people. He was also curious and felt a need to know more about this man. And indeed, how he knew about Jack and the fact that he had only very recently come by the bearings to the legendary island. And if indeed the man had two "fine" sailors with him, where were they? William had said he had been to the tavern alone for the last three nights, apparently waiting for Jack to show up.

Jack needed to buy himself some time. It was indeed true that he needed to recruit a few more men. The passage to Isla de Muerta was no easy ride, even when one knew of the bearings. Stories of freak storms plagued those who attempted to find the place, then there were the rocks, the shipwrecks and the apparent ghosts of sailors past to negotiate the way through. Whilst Jack was doubtful about most of these rumours and stories, he was well aware they had to come from somewhere and didn't want to take any chances at all. "I'm not committing to such a thing," he said suddenly. "I need to think about it and see whether I've room on the ship as it were. Meet me here tomorrow and I'll let yeh know. And I need a name sir, or we've no deal at all. Do we have an accord?" Jack held out his hand.

The man took it with a firm shake. "Very well. Tomorrow it is then Captain Sparrow. And the name is Barbossa."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own POTC. Unfortunately.**

_Robin Sparrow: Thank you so much for your kind words, this is my first bash at a FanFic so its nice to get some encouragement….. constructive criticism very welcome also. _

**Chapter 2 – Reservations **

Today William Turner was a nervous man. He paced the floor, showing none of his usual calm and poise, instead he felt uneasy and restless. He had a bad feeling about this Barbossa fellow and Jack wasn't listening to him. A journey to the infamous Isla de Muerta to seek out the treasure of Cortes himself – 882 identical gold pieces locked away in a stone chest, hidden on an island that could not be found, except by those who already knew where it was. The temptation to go was overwhelming although there were stories galore about that treasure, stories of a terrible curse placed upon the gold by the Aztec Gods. This alone made William a worried man, even though he was as eager as Jack was to see if the legend was true. He had readily agreed with the Captain's reasoning that they needed more men for this voyage which was after all, no ordinary journey. Battling the angry seas and trying to find an island that could not be found anyway, well, they needed all the crazy sailors they could find, true enough. And they would have their rewards when the treasure was found of course. Every man an equal share, Jack had always been very clear on this point. God knows they would deserve it for their troubles. But to take on a man like this, a man who had known of Jack's intentions, a man who was obviously trouble – it made no sense. No sense at all.

But then Jack didn't make sense at the best of times, William knew that. This was what made him so very good at what he did. He took chances, he did the wrong thing constantly and he always, always remained unpredictable. Jack Sparrow had never given William any reason not to trust his judgement, although it did seem a little skewed at times. As William paced, Jack sat back with his feet propped up on the table, leaning back in his chair, his hat slightly wonky and his grin more so. His concern appeared non existent. As William glanced at him every now and again, pausing for breath in the process, he could not be certain that his friend had not fallen asleep.

But Jack was listening to William's concerns and to be fair to the man, shared a few of them himself. This Barbossa fellow was a mighty strange one, that was a fact. He would appear to have known that Jack was planning a visit to Tortuga for the last three nights if what William had said was true, when in fact The Black Pearl had docked only the day before – not only that, he had also known about Jack being in possession of the bearings to the island. A fact Jack was quite sure he had told no one, and certainly there was no way of the man knowing before Jack had arrived. No, there was something very suspicious afoot indeed. Only William had known about the bearings for sure, and even then exactly how Jack had come by them was known only to himself.

And this Barbossa was surely an educated man of sorts, the way he spoke and the way he held himself was in complete contrast to the way that he looked. This could be an intentional thing on his part of course, an attempt to blend in with the locals so to speak, or to hide from something or someone. He was certainly stronger and more agile than his appearance gave him credit for. Sharp too.

Everyone knew of the tales of Isla de Muerta and its priceless treasure – but most folk spoke of it in terms of its legend only and few seemed to want to actually try and find it nowadays. The voyage was too difficult and the price too high – if the rumours of the curse were to be believed. This had always made it all the more attractive to Jack Sparrow however. There was no sense in chasing something that was easy to find. And once had a mind to go after the treasure, he had never had a problem selling the idea to his friend and trusted companion. William Turner was as keen to find this island as Jack was – his intentions were slightly different in that he wanted the riches to give his family a better life back in England. Cursed treasure or not, it would surely bring the same comforts. William knew that many a good man had lost his life on the very voyage they were looking to embark upon. But he also knew that Jack would not have wasted so much time and energy on this venture if it was hardly worth it. To William, that treasure was a key - a way to make his wife and son proud of him. Rather than bringing nothing more than stories of plunder, battles anddanger. What a disappointment that would be.

Jack was a young, cocky Captain with his own ship and he knew he was good at what he did. Better than a lot of pirate captains who were older and had more experience. He had a good eye for what was going on around him and thinking on his feet, even when he was drunk, or appearing to be in order to gain the upper hand when people mistook him for some silly fool who was not quite the full shilling. He was lucky to have had a few good teachers along the way and he learned fast. Apart from his rather unfortunate brush with the East India company he thought himself pretty much uncatchable. What let him down, and it was probably the only thing, was that he did tend to be more open with his men that was wise. He would share information too easily and he trusted people quicker than he probably should have. And Jack knew this too but he thought that mostly, he was a good judge of character and his men would come through for him. Pirates were good men, save for the few who really weren't. And they would have been bad people in whatever profession they had chosen. So he figured it was all relative really.

But Jack was battling slightly with this Barbossa fellow. To take him on the voyage was one thing that needed to be considered, and he would be subject to the same scrutiny that anyone would. It went without saying. But to take him on as first mate, ah well that was slightly different. That role was special, usually trusted to those that – well – could be trusted. The fact that the man was willing to bring along two of his own men, well that was no bad thing surely? Possibly. William claimed otherwise. But if Barbossa was as experienced as he had said he was, he would certainly have his uses on this voyage, there was no use arguing with that logic. And who was Jack to question a man down on his luck? Hadn't he himself been down on his luck once or twice, and where would he be now if it hadn't been for someone with the upper hand taking a chance on him? And if William hadn't agreed to take a chance on him too, he would have been less one good friend today. So there was a lesson, he thought to himself.

Jack's attention shifted back to his friend who had stopped pacing and was now standing in front of his captain, awaiting some kind of response from him. Jack raised his hat slightly.

"What's that you say William?"

This was the problem with Jack. Always in the room, but never quite in the same place. William sighed, "Mother's love man, do you never listen? I was sayin' that I didn't think it wise to take on this gent without knowin' more about him." He shook his head and looked at Jack hopefully, "I daresay this is what you were thinkin' anyway?" _Please, _William thought, _let this be what he was thinkin'………_

Jack's eyes widened in mock innocence, "Course I was. You forget one very important thing mate…….."

"Your Captain Jack Sparrow. Yes it's a fact I'm made aware of most days Jack, thanks to yeh remindin' me. Are yeh ready to go?"

Jack grinned, straightened his hat a little and suddenly sprung up. "Thought you'd never ask William." He raised both his hands and waved dramatically at his friend. "To the tavern!"

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own POTC, I am just borrowing them. Honest.**

**Chapter 3 – The Meeting**

The tavern was only a mere two streets away and William figured that this might give him enough time to persuade his captain to consider carefully his options. He knew that once Jack had a rum or two inside him and with some careful talk from Barbossa and his two friends, if they in fact existed at all, well who knew what could happen? Jack was nobody's fool nor would he suffer them but he had a fondness for a sob story and it would not be out of character for him to take on a man down on his luck, based on a tale of woe alone.

Jack swaggered confidently down the street and William, although taller than his friend struggled to keep up.

"What's in your head Jack? You've gotta be careful man, once your in there and talkin' and drinkin' that fellow is goin' to put some sort of verbal spell on yeh…." William stopped abruptly as Jack suddenly whirled round and faced the larger man, his grin all but vanished from his face and his eyes beginning to flash dangerously. Jack's hands came up to his chin and he pressed them together, it was almost as if he did this to stop himself from using his them on another mission altogether, such as taking a swipe at his friend.

"William," he said, his voice lowered and quiet. "Do me a favour mate, I know it's difficult for you. Stop… this… bloody…. unnecessary concern, al'righ? If yeh cannot be with me, then PLEASE…" he gestured wildly with one arm to the buildings that lined the street, "Please find yeh'self something to amuse yourself with on this fine evening. A lady perhaps? Anythin'….. "

William scowled, not amused. With a wife at home, albeit in another country entirely, this was not an option. His shoulders dropped, he had seen Jack look like this before. Enough. He would make his decision alone, for the good of the crew and the good of the voyage. William Turner was Jack's friend, he was not however, his advisor. Jack noted the beaten look in William's eyes, and, satisfied he had made his point he turned and carried on walking. William waited a split second and followed him. He would not leave Jack Sparrow to recruit this man and his miscreants alone. And, as Jack strode down the street, hearing William's footsteps just behind him, he smiled to himself knowingly.

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It took a moment to locate Barbossa in the Tavern. Jack paused in the doorway to take in his surroundings as it took a couple of seconds for his eyes to adjust to the dim candlelight in there. There was no initial sign of the man. No sign in the main seating area where Jack and William had been sitting the night before. He flashed a quick look to the corner Barbossa had apparently frequented for at least the last three nights – no, not there either. Interesting. Perhaps he wasn't going to show up then. William appeared with two jugs of rum and Jack took his, looking around again and trying to decide where to sit. It was early, but already the Tavern was crowded and deafening. Not that Jack or William particularly noticed the noise, they were used to it.

And then Jack saw him. Barbossa. He was standing on the balcony of all places. Standing there, looking straight down at Jack and William, his face locked in a grimace. His arms outstretched, both his grimy, calloused hands rested on the wooden rail, what there was left of it and he was again wearing his large hat at an angle which kept most of his face in shadow. He wore the same clothes as the previous evening, not surprisingly and looked every inch the ghostly observer once more. Again, no one around the man interacted with him, nor was he jostled or pushed about which was standard issue for anyone in this tavern, at the very least due to the lack of space. He held an unspoken air about him which suggested that he was best left alone and not to be interfered with in any way.

Jack touched the front of his hat with two fingers and acknowledged Barbossa in a salute of sorts. He had already made the decision not to approach the man – better to let Barbossa come to him he felt. After all he was the Captain.

Jack crossed to a nearby table which leant badly against the wall, due to it missing a leg. As the wall had a sizeable dent in it, it held the table well. It had no doubt been much quicker to hack at the wall and solve the problem that way, rather than attempt to repair the piece of furniture. He remained casual and made small talk with William until a moment or so later, he looked up to find Barbossa standing over him. Despite his keeping a sharp eye on proceedings Jack hadn't seen him approach, the man could move like a damn phantom. This impressed Jack somewhat but in all honesty, it also made him incredibly edgy.

Barbossa took a seat opposite Jack, and put his feet up onto the table. He was confident and carried a completely different air about him that the man sitting almost cowering into his drink the night before. He had a half sneer on his face and his arms were folded across his chest as if he was assessing the situation himself. Jack glanced across at William who had a look on his face as if to say, "_I don't much care for this….."_

But Jack was not going to lose the upper hand. Oh no. "I've been thinkin' about your little proposition Barbossa, and I think it might be rather nice to take you along. You mentioned two friends….." Jack jumped and then frowned as two men appeared behind Barbossa. The first, a small rotund gent balding on top but with long hair down his back, he had an evil glare about him and his eyes were almost yellow. His companion seemed a lot younger than he and taller, with short dirty blond hair and an eye patch. He grinned at Jack.

Barbossa gestured behind him without looking round. "Indeed. This 'ere is Pintel and Ragetti."

Jack eyed the newcomers with a raised eyebrow, "What happened to your eye?" he couldn't help asking.

Ragetti opened his mouth to answer but Barbossa beat him to it. "He had a little fallin' out with our last Captain ya might say, terrible business there."

Ragetti's hand flew up to his eye patch, "Terrible business." He muttered, echoing Barbossa's words.

"Sailed with Henry Morgan for ten years." Barbossa suddenly stated. That grabbed Jack's attention alright. Henry Morgan? "Just in case yeh' wanted to know of my experience."

Jack wasn't the only one to sit up and take notice of this statement. Three men nearby had overheard Barbossa and were now casually moving backwards away from the men as if Henry Morgan himself might appear in the doorway and draw his sword. Not a man to be messed with. Even other pirates were careful of Henry Morgan.

Jack shrugged. "I am supposing though Barbossa, that Henry Morgan has yet to obtain the heading for Isla de Muerta. Otherwise said Henry Morgan would have pilfered his way there already and would be in this very tavern or one like it, spending the treasure, now that would be my guess." Jack had played his card – he was not impressed with Barbossa's past. Not outwardly anyway. However his mind was working fast and he had decided that this fellow might be very handy to have around in a tight spot. Very handy indeed. And his two friends, although sadly lacking in the intelligence department were, none the less, two extra pairs of hands on the ship. Although exactly how useful young one eye would be, well, that would remain to be seen.

William watched the scene unfold with a feeling of dread rising from the very pit of his stomach. He had heard tales of Henry Morgan and his crew, he was probably the most feared pirate in the world. How on earth had Barbossa managed to survive ten years sailing under Morgan? But then, William silently surmised to himself, it would explain a lot about the way Barbossa was and how he looked. Weathered and beaten, the man had obviously seen a few things in his time. But what would Barbossa make of sailing under Captain Sparrow? He couldn't be more different to Morgan. William looked from one to the other. It was a worry alright. He looked again from Jack back to Barbossa and was suddenly aware that the man was staring right at him. He stared back.

"Bill, the man asked your name." Jack sighed and waved at William dismissively. "This here is Bootstrap Bill. Or just Bootstrap."

William looked at Jack, puzzled. Why had Jack used his nickname? Jack never called him Bootstrap, it was always William. He took a large swig from his rum and surveyed the men that he knew he would be working with on the voyage. Jack had made his decision, it was now for William to stand by it, God help them. Barbossa, William would never trust, there was evil in that man's eyes right enough. And what of the other two? Pintel looked as though he would go along with anything as long as it benefited himself – typical pirate there. The other one, Ragetti, just a young lad really. Only one eye, and so thin he looked as though a strong breeze could snuff him out. Well Jack liked to take along a crew that was, by tradition, slightly different from the norm and he had certainly managed that this time. William leaned in a little as the men huddled together and Jack discussed his plans.

"We set sail in two days. Every man an equal share in the treasure. What say you to that?" Barbossa nodded in agreement as Pintel and Ragetti just looked at each other and grinned.

"And the heading?" William looked on in interest at Barbossa's question. This was something he had not been able to get out of Jack at all, despite his trying on a few occasions. Would he give this up to Barbossa?

Jack smiled. Ah. Apparently not. "Not to worry about that little detail my friend. Tis' firmly fixed in my head and I will safely get us all there, or my name is not Captain Jack Sparrow, savvy?"

Barbossa nodded again but his expression had changed, he was not pleased. "More drinks Pintel, if yeh please," he muttered to his friend. Pintel, who had been sharing some joke or other with Ragetti, immediately scurried off towards the bar.

Jack leaned forward over the table, "How did yeh know I was goin' to be here Barbossa? Yeh' knew almost before I did. And how did yeh come by the information that I was in fact in possession of any such headings to the island? Tis' an interesting tale I'm sure, care to share it with us fine gentlemen?"

Barbossa pulled his legs off the table and put them firmly on the floor, leaning forward to face Jack, there was no more than an inch between them.

"Well yeh' see Jack, that is an interesting line o' questioning right enough. Very well, I'll tell yeh, just so as yeh can be sure o' me honour." He looked towards William and then back to the captain. "I gather old Bootstrap ere' knows of how yeh got yeh' heading?"

Jack suddenly looked very uncomfortable and looked away from Barbossa, over to the bar and craned his neck, "Now where is that man with the rum? Eh? Bill, why don't you take Rag – Ragelli – Ragetti ere' and seek him out, or we'll all run dry." William stood up reluctantly and the young lad made to follow him. A shame. He had wrongly thought that he was trusted enough to know the full story, the story Barbossa was apparently going to learn, but he wasn't first mate aboard the Pearl and therefore he obviously wasn't going to learn anything he didn't need to know about. He nodded to Jack and moved away, Ragetti following him silently.

Jack gathered his thoughts quickly and peered quizzically into his mug which was just about empty. Then he looked up into Barbossa's cold eyes.

"I have somethin' in my possession which will tell me the heading. It doesn't matter how I came by it, truth be told. Its just important that we get there, savvy?"

Barbossa nodded and appeared thoughtful. "I don't know who gave yeh that trinket of which you speak Jack, but I do know who it belonged to before yeh. It belonged to The Brethren of the Coast. I daresay they would be interested to get it back. Thas' how I knew. Morgan told me 'imself e'did, just before throwing me off his bloody ship."

Jack knew that Henry Morgan was a member of The Brethren, a confederation of pirates who centred around Tortuga. They had set down the Pirate Code, which most ships followed on some level or other. I helped to keep things simple. Jack reached into his pocket and felt the compass, he felt a sudden need to make sure it was still there. It was. Jack smiled, of course he had known perfectly well whom the compass belonged to originally. What he didn't know was how Henry Morgan had come by the information that he had it now, considering he had bartered it from a soothsayer he knew rather well. But still, information was easy to come by if one was willing to pay for it. But it didn't matter. Morgan was not in these seas and if he was on his way to try and catch up with Jack, unlikely, he had no bearing with which to follow them.

"Oh' e' had no intention of going there Jack, jus' in case you was wonderin'." Barbossa said. "Morgan has no use for cursed gold. Don't need it."

"Stories, tales to frighten children…" Jack dismissed, waving his hands elaborately.

"Indeed. Well I guess we'll soon know eh? Ah…" Barbossa exclaimed, as the men returned with new jugs. He raised his towards Jack, "To the voyage?"

"To the voyage and to the Pearl." Jack replied, and clinked his jug against Barbossa's.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own POTC. I will return them as soon as I am done with them – maybe.**

_Robin Sparrow: Thanks once again for your reviews and your kind words, it means a lot. Hopefully you are not the only reader I have, ha ha. But if you are, here's another update just for you………._

**Chapter 4 – Dark Thoughts – and a Fight**

It was dark at the dock, especially as a fog had swept into Tortuga from the sea. Pintel and Ragetti sat side by side, dangling their legs over the side of the dock. Pintel swung his short legs to and fro while Ragetti threw pebbles into the water. The Black Pearl could just about be seen through the fog, looming.

She was a beautiful ship. How on earth had Jack Sparrow managed to get himself a ship like that? It was truly a mystery. It was known to be one of the fastest, if not THE fastest ship in the Caribbean and had a mysterious, yet elegant look to it, with its black sails.

Barbossa, who stood behind the men silently staring at what could be seen of the Pearl, was thinking this exact thought. Jack Sparrow had certainly landed himself some ship, and the unfairness of it all weighed heavily down on the man. It hadn't been exactly true when he had claimed that he had sailed with Morgan for ten years - he had indeed sailed on one of his many ships for a time most recently, but Barbossa had also served under others too. He knew the Brethren of the Coast had many precious and mysterious items in their possession and he had indeed been told by one of Morgan's men that Jack Sparrow had a compass that had once been theirs. And this had, as he had claimed, occurred as Barbossa was literally thrown off their ship and left to swim ashore. Barbossa was a ruthless pirate and not a nice man at all, he had designs on any ship he sailed on to take over as Captain and this had not gone down too well at all aboard that last one. So Barbossa had been given leave so to speak, once the captain had got wind of the fact that Barbossa was after the compass, not knowing that it was already in someone else's possession.

Barbossa smiled to himself. He figured it was good fortune that had led him to be thrown off that ship and lady luck that had directed him to Tortuga. For here he had heard the rumours that a certain young pirate captain had gained the heading to the Isla de Muerta and not only that, had a mind to go after the treasure and was crazy enough to do so. The locals testified that Jack Sparrow was most likely to land in Tortuga any day now. He appeared there quite regularly to recruit new crew members or to stock up on the Pearl. He was popular and well known among the locals and they readily spoke about him. Barbossa had learned many interesting facts about Captain Jack Sparrow. And he felt that he now knew enough to exploit his obvious weaknesses. His crazy, unpredictable nature and his stupid honest streak.

His concentration was interrupted as Pintel's voice grew louder. "You can't be cabin boy, your too old by far and you've only one eye. Its crow's nest for you!"

Barbossa sighed. He was used to Pintel and Ragetti's ways. One could not live without the other it seemed. Where one went, the other followed. Pintel had taken Ragetti under his wing after that unfortunate incident when Ragetti had lost his eye. They were keen to loot some treasure for Ragetti to get a glass eye so that he could stop wearing his patch which he hated and claimed "itched terrible," oh, only about seventy or eighty times a day.

Ragetti was a young man in his early twenties and had served on only one ship which had cost him his eye. He was certainly nervous about going after cursed treasure no less, but thought it would be worth it to get a new eye out of it. Luckily his remaining eye served him well and he had otherwise good vision. After the initial injury and following infection, then having the agony of actually losing his eye it had actually healed quite well, considering. He didn't like to think about it too much, what he called the dark days.' The nightmares alone were reminder enough of those.

The two men were gibbering idiots, although they had their uses. They served Barbossa's purposes for now, which was mainly to follow his orders and assist with his takeover of The Black Pearl.

He looked down at the two men, Pintel was now standing over Ragetti and they were arguing loudly about the coming voyage and the storms which allegedly plagued the waters along the way. Ragetti had made the point that perhaps the crow's nest was not the best place for a one eyed gent during a heavy storm, but Pintel was having none of it, and placed a firm boot in Ragetti's back, pushing the lad into the dock.

Barbossa strode quickly over and grabbed Ragetti by the shoulder, hauling him up, coughing and spluttering. He threw the lad onto the dock and stood over them both. Ragetti let out a wail as he realised his eye patch had come off in the fall and crawled to the edge of the dock, searching the black waters for a black eye patch that could not have been seen even if it was floating right underneath him. Barbossa gave him a sharp smack on the top of his head and yanked him back from the water's edge.

"Down ta' the depths the pair of yeh, you feckless idiots!"

Pintel quickly ripped up his shirt sleeve and tied it at an angle around Ragetti's head to hide the hole where his eye had once been. Ragetti put his hand protectively over the material and shivering hard, looked up fearfully at Barbossa. Pintel stood up and faced the much taller man, who loomed over the pair of them like a spectre.

"My apologies Captain. Just got a bit carried away in the moment yeh know – what with the treasure an' all….."

Pintel received a strike across the head for his troubles and scowled. But he knew better than to challenge Barbossa over anything. The man was a demon with a sword, quick as a cat and he had no morals at all, even for a pirate. Barbossa would think nothing of killing them both and kicking their lifeless bodies into the water. Pintel knew that. And so he stayed silent, but scowling.

"We must keep our eyes on the prize lads. Riches beyond our wildest dreams!" Barbossa said and took an apple out of his coat pocket. He rubbed it on his coat which no doubt made it dirtier than it had been originally, then took a bite. "And I've told yeh.." he added, his eyes flashing angrily at the two men, "Yehs' don't call me Captain….. yet."

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Jack half laid on his bed, outstretched and twirled his compass around and around in his hand. Around and around, flip it open then snap it shut. Twirl, twirl, snap. Twirl twirl, snap. Had he made the right decision? His head was foggy with rum, even though he had made a promise to himself not to get this way tonight. He had recruited two crew members and a first mate. Well, he had needed a first mate. Someone crazy enough to follow this voyage as keenly as he. Job done then. His eyes moved slowly across the room to William who was standing with his back to Jack, looking out of the tiny window. A window whose view was made all the more difficult by the fact that it was obviously some time since it had seen a clean.

"There's an unnatural fog out there." William stated simply, without turning around.

Jack frowned and widened his eyes to try and see. He had noticed the fog as they had staggered back to the Inn but in all honesty, he had thought at the time that it was just his eyesight failing him. His eyes drifted back to his compass. Twirl, twirl, snap. Twirl, twirl, snap.

"Jus' looks like an ordinary fog ta' me Bill."

Jack knew that William was not happy with him. He wasn't happy because he had taken a dislike to Barbossa and his two friends. He wasn't happy because he thought that Jack hadn't listened to his concerns and also because Jack had decided to take them along when they were obviously not the same sort of pirates as Jack and William were. And Jack knew that William was most unhappy about the fact that he had spoken to Barbossa about the island's heading only after sending William away on an errand. Oh William had gone along with it, Jack would have expected no less of him. Nothing but complete trust and loyalty from Mr Turner. But William felt betrayed and confused – Jack understood that, he did. But he was captain of the fastest ship in the Caribbean, about to embark on a dangerous voyage through mysterious waters and goodness knows what else. Unnatural fogs and the like were a breeze in comparison to some of the tales Jack had heard about their upcoming journey. It didn't hurt to recruit men that he didn't care about so much, didn't particularly consider friends, just for the benefits of getting them all there in one piece. No, he didn't regret his decision. It was to the benefit of them all.

William turned to face Jack, an angry look on his face. "I have worries Jack, that this little trip is goin' to cost us all our lives."

Jack was up in a flash and he squared up to his taller friend. "It's come ta this has it William? You don't trust old Jack, is that it?"

William sighed, but kept his friend's eye. "I trust ya' Jack. But it seems yeh' don' really trust me. Why yeh be tellin' that Barbossa fellow anythin' at all when yeh haven't shared with me?"

"Yeh question' me William. Can't say I care for it much." Jack started to turn away but William grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back round. Instinctively he swung a punch but William, who hadn't had as much to drink as Jack, such as his nature to watch over the captain, was ready and ducked. Jack, realising his balance was suddenly all over the place, widened his eyes and staggered before falling over and landing in a heap on the floor.

"Bugger."

He reached for his hat, which had rolled off his head. William kicked it away, annoyed that Jack had dared to swing for him. That did it. Jack was angry now. No one treated Jack Sparrow's hat like that! He was on his feet once more and after spending a couple of seconds regaining his balance, not easy, he drew his sword and held it to William's throat, his eyes flashing dangerously.

William stepped backwards slowly and Jack followed, sword still pointing. William stopped as he came into contact with the wall behind him. Jack smiled, but it was a dangerous smile, a smile that told William he was well and truly cornered. Drunk as he was, Jack was still dangerous.

"Now," he stated, looking at his friend still smiling. "Now as your stuck there, you listen to me. The only thing that matters mate, is this. What you can do and what you can't do. You can either trust me or yeh can't. If yeh can't, well…" Jack shrugged as he continued, "yeh can go back to yeh little family empty handed and explain it all to William junior who I'm sure will understand why his dad left him to do a bit of good old honest pirate-ing. Now me, I can skewer yeh right here and now – but I can't keep an eye on our honest new recruits all by me onesies, savvy? So it comes to this…." Jack threw his sword down and held out his hand to his friend, "Yeh goin' to trust me or are yeh not?"

William stared at Jack for a few seconds and then took his hand, which Jack shook firmly.

"Good," he cried, throwing his free hand around elaborately. "This calls for a celebration then! Whoa…." The sudden exertion appeared to take it out of him, for Jack suddenly swayed and almost fell over once again.

"I think ye've had enough mate," William muttered and helped Jack back to his bed. He picked up Jack's hat and handed it to him, which Jack took sleepily.

"Thanks Bootstrap," he murmured sleepily and put his hat over his face to catch up on some well earned sleep.

William returned to the window. It was an unnatural fog alright.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

_Many thanks to all who have taken the time to read my story. Hope you are enjoying it, and you don't feel its been a complete waste of your time._

_To those who have left me reviews, many thanks, I do take notice and will continue to do so. Constructive criticism very welcome, suggestions, whatever. _

_To answer questions, I am intending on taking this to the mutiny (I think) but I'll take my lead from Jack and see where he takes me. **Shadowshard**: I appreciate all your comments and thank you for risking your job to leave them for me, ha ha. I agree with you, I do tend to write people and feelings/views better than places and settings but I am trying to improve on this._

_Anyway enough waffle, press on…….._

**Disclaimer: I do not own POTC – I hold out hope that they will be offered to me but no luck so far. Ah well.**

**Chapter 5 – Aboard the Black Pearl**

During the day the seas were calmer than at night when the rain came. And not just any old rain - big, heavy blobs of rain, the type of rain that soaked a man in seconds. Rain that hurt if it hit you in the face or hands. Rain that bounced off the deck and made a noise doing so. The darkness seemed to bring with it the rain, and the thick fog, as well as the unnatural shadows on the water and the strong winds. Whilst not a hurricane by far, this was all enough to worry the crew. The sea was angry at night alright. And restless. Big waves rose up and often splashed right over the side of the ship, soaking everyone in its wake. And the cold – as soon as the sun set, it became so cold that icy breath could be seen in the air.

Jack quietly contemplated these strange weather patterns from the safety of his cabin. It was a small cabin, room enough for the captain and his effects, a small table which was always strewn in maps, a chair and a hammock. More often than not, Jack ended up taking cat naps on his chair, boots up on the table, hat draped across his face. He was not a man able to take to his bed for the entire night. Not on this trip. Not in this weather. It was only the second day of the voyage though, plenty of time to catch up on sleep once nearer the island he figured.

He glanced sideways out of the grimy porthole at the black night beyond. Soaked to the skin already, he had decided to take a short break in his cabin before going back outside to take the wheel once more. This was the problem with being the only man aboard who knew the heading. Barbossa could keep the Pearl on a steady course for some moments true enough, but it needed Jack at the wheel to ensure they were in fact heading for the Isla de Muerta and not going around and around in circles before ending up back at Tortuga. Jack had survived worse storms than this one on many an occasion. But this strange weather did have him spooked just a little bit, even though so far he had kept this to himself and to the crew, appeared just as ridiculously calm and laid back as ever.

The storms, he supposed, were probably a complete coincidence and nothing to do with their heading at all. Storms happened all the time, everywhere, of course they did. It was only the stories making Jack feel a little uncomfortable, it was only because he had been half expecting strange happenings on this voyage and now he was attributing everything to it. A storm was just a storm, weather to be sailed through with minimum damage, it was nothing more than that.

Jack shook his head as several drops of freezing cold water suddenly found their way down his neck. He ran his hand through his thick, dark dreadlocks and sighed in dismay as his fingers got caught up in one, catching on his hair and the assortment of beads and trinkets tied into it. There was a sudden sharp rap on the cabin door and Jack whirled round, trying to remain casual with his hand still stuck in his dreadlock. It was Pintel, who trudged down the cabin steps, almost as if weighed down by the water in his clothes.

"Cap'n, the storm is worsening, Barbossa is requestin' you come back," Pintel said.

Jack nodded and pretended to be fiddling with his hat, since his hand didn't seem to want to tug free of his hair. Blast his bloody hair! Pintel frowned and looked on in confusion.

Jack's hand suddenly pulled free, along with a couple of beads which shot off across the cabin. Jack's eyes widened, and he darted after them, as the ship took a sudden lurch to the port side. Pintel staggered and grabbed onto the table, just managing to keep himself upright. He looked over his shoulder and saw Jack, scrabbling around on the floor. "Captain?" He murmured, with a raised eyebrow.

Jack suddenly leapt up, triumphant. "Got it!" he cried, and quickly and expertly tied the bead back into his hair, "A pox on this storm! Don' just stand there ye dog, come on!" And he ran up the cabin steps with the apparent energy of a five year old, as the ship seemed to groan as she lurched starboard. Pintel shook his head and followed.

Up on the deck, it was chaos. Jack could hardly see anything as he slowly made his way to the wheel, against the wind. Barbossa struggled to keep hold of the thing, as it spun this way and that. Although he might have had a touch more luck if he had used both his hands, one arm was resting atop his head trying to keep his hat in place. The deck was full of the crew, as they darted about pulling on ropes, trying to keep the Pearl steady and above the water, rather than in it. By the second the storm seemed to get worse and worse, the rain harder and heavier, the air had an icy chill and the wind picked up again, finally winning the battle with Barbossa's hat which swept off his head and was out of sight within a split second due to the fog. Barbossa shouted out several foul curses into the night. Jack could hardly hear himself think above the shouts of his men to each other, the howling gale and the raindrops pounding down on him.

Jack got to the wheel and Barbossa stepped aside, leaving Jack to try and navigate the way through with his compass. The needle swung around and around to Jack's complete frustration, due to the cursed weather. He shook it a little, holding on to it for dear life. If the wind took his compass, Jack was fully prepared to dive into the sea after it. Ah, it began to settle again, that was a good sign.

Jack swung the wheel around to alter course again. He guessed this must be the whole point of the Isla de Muerta, after all if it stayed put exactly it would have been easy to find wouldn't it, and the treasure would be long gone.

As Jack tried to focus forward, which was nigh impossible with the rain, he could vaguely make out the shape of William on the deck, organising the crew. It was as if he sensed Jack looking his way, as he turned to face the Captain and pointed wildly out into the ocean and shouted something to him. Jack couldn't hear a word of it but he could see that William was certainly upset about something. He tried to look in the direction William was pointing but he couldn't see a thing, it was far too foggy.

And suddenly it stopped. The rain quickly slowed, then stopped altogether and the wind dropped. In seconds. It was gone as quickly as it had come. The icy chill remained however and also the fog. The Pearl steadied herself and drifted along happily. Jack fondly patted the wheel and grinned, _well done luv, _he thought, _you've done it. _

Barbossa appeared in front of him and Jack jumped into action, steadying the wheel and checking his compass.

"Captain - a ship!" Barbossa shouted at him.

Jack looked again. Barbossa was right. Not thirty yards away was a ship. It was a huge galleon, black like the Pearl but with white sails. It was drifting completely parallel to their ship as if in tandem. The crew, who had been dashing about madly for the past hour trying to get safely through the sudden storm, fell silent and stared at the ship. Jack stared too, trying desperately to fathom what on earth was going on. The fog made the ship appear quite transparent and there was an odd look to it – Jack realised there was no sign of a crew, not one man aboard and no one at the wheel which spun freely from what he could make out, yet the ship stayed on course. He squinted to try and get a better view, but he came to the same conclusion again, there was no sign of a crew. And she was flying no colours at all.

"Take the wheel," Jack ordered Barbossa and ran to the side of the ship where he was joined by William.

Jack had over twenty men aboard the Pearl and every one of them was on deck staring at the white ship. William looked at Jack and then back again. "It's the dead, Jack," he breathed fearfully, "A ship crewed by ghosts come to warn us." Jack looked sharply at his friend, but it was too late. Ragetti, standing nearby holding onto the rag that still covered his eye by some miracle, had overheard.

"Ghosts!" he shouted, suddenly terrified. "Ship of the dead! The dead!" He started to run, but fell over his own gangly feet and ended up in a heap on the deck. Twigg, a nasty gent but a good worker nonetheless took Ragetti's lead and took off from where he was standing to find somewhere to hide. Khoeler frantically began to climb the rigging, although where he was hoping to hide up there was anyone's guess. Jack watched the madness unfold for a moment, and then gained his perspective back.

"Gentlemen," he shouted, "This is no ghost ship, this is obviously…. erm…" he waved wildly around, trying to think of something. "Perhaps we should …er…" but failing to think of something sensible to do, he suddenly ran across the deck, down the steps and into his cabin to think, slamming the door behind him.

William sighed and turned back to have another look. But the white ship had gone. Had it slowed down, changed course? It was too misty to see properly but William attempted it anyway, he leaned over the side, holding onto the roads in case the wind picked up again and took him unawares, and looked behind the Pearl which was, now the waters were calmer more or less back up to full speed. He looked around at the other crew members who had chosen not to hide, not many of them left, to no surprise. Pintel pointed out to sea. "Its gone!" he shouted, stating the obvious.

The ship had indeed completely disappeared. The fog was still as heavy as ever and as he looked out to the ocean again, William half doubted there had actually been a ship at all. Had they imagined the whole thing? He turned around slowly to go back to his duties feeling confused and caught Barbossa's eye, who was still at the wheel keeping her steady. Barbossa smiled, a strange knowing smile.

"I saw it Bootstrap." He said quietly, as if he sensed that William needed some sort of reassurance. Bootstrap replied with a simple shrug. The entire crew had seen it, he didn't need to be in league with Barbossa. He approached the first mate as Barbossa beckoned him with a bony finger. The man quickly glanced around to ensure no one was near, and leaned in to William.

"Might want te' find the Captain though Bill. Seemed mighty scared when he took off. Maybe not as confident with this whole new set o' circumstance eh? Maybe needs a bit of a talkin' to, as it were."

William shrugged again. "Jack has his own way of dealing with things Barbossa."

Barbossa nodded, "Aye that he does alrigh.' Good thing he be looking after the interest of the gents from the safety of his cabin then eh?" He laughed and William walked away. God he hated that man. But although he hated to admit it, Barbossa did have a point. That ship had everyone spooked for the few minutes it had been visible. If the scare stories were beginning to unfold as rumour suggested, Jack would need to get his head together for the nights to come. There could be far worse things out there, William thought, than a sudden storm and a ship that appeared and disappeared as it saw fit. And they needed Jack to be up there, taking charge, being his usual self, reassuring these idiots who were too stupid to know better. Not hiding out in his cabin.

William headed towards the Captain's cabin but as he reached the top of the steps, he saw that Jack had opened the door and was peering round it.

"It's gone Jack."

"Oh good, no worries then." Jack strode out of the cabin confidently and met his friend at the top of the steps. William nodded towards Barbossa, still at the wheel with Pintel, Ragetti, Twigg and a few others crowded round him.

"You want ta watch that one Jack. He's already bin' sayin' that you bein' in there was a bad move. Tryin' to make yeh look bad. They'll believe him they will, slack jawed idiots."

Jack grinned his lopsided trademark grin, "You worry too much my friend. Come and join me at the wheel, have a drink o' rum and celebrate the passin' of that terrible storm." Jack looked around him, frowned and then added, "Could have been much worse ye know. It wasn't obvious William, but I don' mind tellin' yeh I was a bit worried back there…."

William stayed put as Jack swaggered to the wheel. He watched Barbossa carefully. The first mate saluted Jack as he took over once more with his compass, the earlier panic and worry all but forgotten now. He strode off with his friends in tow and passed by William as they walked the deck.

"Everything an equal share but not the bearin's oh no, well thas' not good enough is it gents, its in all our interests to…." Out of earshot, William would not find out tonight what it was in Barbossa's "interests" to do.

William took a few deep breaths and surveyed the surroundings carefully. The first mate was up to no good, William would bet a tavern's worth of rum on it. He didn't like Jack Sparrow as much as he was making out, that much was obvious from the way he was talking about him to the crew. And that couldn't be a good thing. Jack was a trusting fool and his brain was fogged with thoughts of the treasure from the bloody island of death and god knows what else was there, waiting for them.

William had to do something. He needed to find out what Barbossa was up to. And that was going to mean trying to befriend the man.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Don't own POTC. Don't even own a jar of dirt. **

_Again, thanks to everyone still clicking on my story and taking the time to read it – hope it is to your liking! Thanks also for reviews which are always great to receive, as always constructive criticism very welcome and suggestions also. Not much left now, we are approaching the mutiny, poor Jack……_

**Chapter 6 – Day 3**

Jack stretched back in his chair, boots up in their usual place on the table. His hat covered most of his face and blocked out a lot of the light, however he was ready to move it at a moment's notice and leap up should the need arise. Sleep wasn't going to come easy to him, especially not during the day although Barbossa had insisted the captain get some rest ready for the night ahead. After last night's brush with Mother Nature, they had to be ready for anything. Jack couldn't argue with the man's logic and so had agreed to rest a while. But just for a while. He shifted position slightly and then regretted it, as his chair tipped back further than he meant it to and toppled over backwards. Jack laid on his back, still in a sitting position with his legs in the air and stared at the roof of his cabin thoughtfully. He frowned, then shrugged to himself, readjusted his hat over his face and closed his eyes.

Whilst Jack's sleep was disturbed by dreams of ghostly ships, dead pirates and rain, lots of rain, Barbossa paced the deck above. He had gathered most of the men together to discuss the previous night's events. The crew were restless, edgy and tired. Pirates were a superstitious lot at the best of times and half the crew had managed to convince the other half in scared whispers that the ghosts of the dead had cursed the voyage and would appear to them every night until they decided to board the ship, kill the crew and take the Pearl with them to the depths.

William sat among them, listening in to the tales. He had seen that ship as clear as the rest of them had, and whilst he had a little trouble taking on what the gents were saying, for ships to appear and disappear again in the dead of the night, well something was up. The day was clear and warm, not a cloud in the sky. The same as the day before and the day before that. Yet with the darkness came the storms. It would the same tonight, William would bet a tavern's worth of rum on it.

Barbossa stood in the centre of the men. Almost the entire crew had gathered now – save for the few still working and others catching up on some sleep. He looked around at them all – nervous, dirty faces wondering what on earth he was going to say to them. Only Pintel and Ragetti seemed untroubled. Pintel hovered in the background and Ragetti sat leant up against a barrel, twisting his rag around and around in his hands. Last night's storm appeared to have cleaned the cloth a little and he was wringing it out. Unfortunately that left the gaping hole where his eye should have been on full show and as a result of that, most of the crew didn't look directly at him. Ragetti suddenly looked up and caught William watching him – William looked away immediately, he felt very uncomfortable looking at the one eyed lad's unfortunate face.

William jolted back to the matter at hand as he heard Barbossa mention Jack's name. The men stirred and mumbled to each other. Barbossa raised both his hands and waved them to quiet down, which they did immediately. The authoritative air the man carried was frightening.

"Gents," he said, sneering. "You all be aware that the treasure we be finding on this little voyage is to be shared equally among us all. And mighty fine that is too. But if everything be an equal share, now in my _humble _opinion that includes the bearins' too, what say you all?"

"Aye!" the crew muttered between themselves.

Barbossa nodded, encouraged by the positive reaction he had gotten so far. "It seems to me that we have a little problem here trustin' our fine captain who won' share the bearings with us and seems to have a terrible wantin' to keep 'em known only to himself."

"Aye!" Pintel said, a little too loudly for Barbossa's liking, who glared at the smaller man with distaste. Pintel shuffled his feet and looked down, scowling.

Barbossa reached up as if to adjust his hat to full effect, then realised that he had lost the cursed thing the night before. Finding something new to do with his hands, he outstretched them to the men, palms up. The gesture was reminiscent of something Jack might have done, but with better effect coming from the captain. Barbossa was not a man who normally waved his hands around, except to hit people or to draw his sword.

"Gentleman," he stated, as if giving the most important speech of his life. "I think yeh know what we need to do 'ere. Lets take a vote – if yeh's want me to take charge ere' I will obtain the bearins of the Isla De Muerta from Jack Sparrow and I will take over as Captain to ensure we all get there alive. And rest assured gents," he added, looking from one man to another, resting his eyes on each one as if implanting thoughts into their very heads, "I will not be runnin' into my cabin at the firs' sign of anythin' how shall I say….. _unusual._"

The men cackled. William stared around him aghast. The faces of some of the crew told him that this was not the first time they had heard Barbossa's plan at all. He had been working on them for the last couple of days, it was obvious now. William stared around him as the men mumbled and huddled together, thinking it over, actually deciding on whether to take a vote on this man's plan! He suddenly became aware of Barbossa's cold eyes, boring into him, his face serious and expressionless. Without his ridiculous oversized hat, Barbossa's grave, uncaring face was in full view and it was not a pretty sight.

"What say yeh Bootstrap?" Barbossa had the nerve to ask him.

William didn't reply. He couldn't trust himself to find the words. Instead, he turned and quickly began to walk away to think. Barbossa was upon him in seconds, he grabbed William's arm and spun him around to face him. William found himself backed up against the main mast, Barbossa's cutlass pointing at his neck.

"If yeh' not with me Bill yeh against me," Barbossa reasoned. "And that's all fair n'uff I suppose. But it'd be a mighty shame to warn Jack and throw in your lot wiv 'im and all 'es got coming to him, yeh think? 'E told me you 'ad a son at 'ome in merry old England. I would guess that's where your share of the treasure will be goin… well…" Barbossa laughed and continued, "'E's never goin' to see a single piece of it, is he Bill, if you end up falling overboard 'ere? Terrible shame should that 'appen, in the middle of the ocean with these unnatural storms 'an all."

Some of the crew stood behind Barbossa, sneering at William. It was painfully obvious whose side they were now on. William knew his own sword hung in his belt and was helpless to reach for it, with the point of Barbossa's just inches from his throat. He would be thrown overboard with his throat cut in less than a minute and no one would be able to help him. From the looks of things, no one would even want to.

Barbossa laughed quietly, a poisonous, deadly laugh that put chills down William's spine, even in the warm sun.

"So," the first mate said, looking William up and down, "We 'ave a choice Bill. We can join up to this venture and get some treasure for yeh' young lad or we can forget 'bout all that and pay a little visit to Davy Jones' locker. Which is it te be? Eh?"

There was a pause and William looked past Barbossa at the crew who stood and stared right back at him. Not one stepped forward to challenge the man. Bloody bunch of pirates. Barbossa hadn't moved an inch – he knew the crew were behind him and supporting him, and he didn't need to even check that they were not about to challenge him.

William lowered his eyes. "I'm with yeh Barbossa." He murmured, hardly believing what he had just done. But his desire to see his wife again and his wonderful son was overwhelming and in the end they had to come first. He was determined to give William junior a better life than the one currently mapped out for him – a life of poverty and hardship. That had to come first.

Barbossa nodded smugly and slowly withdrew his cutlass. "We have an accord," he breathed triumphantly and strode away, knowing he had just won over the most difficult member of the crew and in doing so had secured the support of every other crewman who might have dared challenge him, unlikely though that was.

William stood with his back to the mast for what seemed like a long time, stunned into silence and watching the scene slowly unfold around him. Barbossa out of his sight for now, the crew went back to their stations, some travelled below decks to rest or try and find something to eat or drink. They seemed unconcerned and casual, as if they plotted to overthrow their captain every day of the week.

William slid down the mast and sat on the deck, staring into space, his mind whirling. So Barbossa was going to take over the ship – but when? Not right away it would seem, so when then? And how? Did he plan to murder Jack in his sleep? No surely not, that wasn't right with the code and Barbossa seemed to be a man to keep to the code. Didn't he? So what could he do and could William stop him? It seemed unlikely. He was vastly outnumbered and none of the crew would fight fair. He could warn Jack true enough but to what end? They were in the middle of mysterious waters and not coming up on land yet. If they were thrown overboard, that was that. And William would never see his family again, not only that, but they would never know what had happened to him. Shaking, he put his head in his hands as he realised that there was not a single thing he could do to either stop this from happening or help Jack.

He squinted up into the sunlight as a hand outstretched to him, ready to pull him up. Bloody Barbossa. Why didn't he just leave William alone? He found himself gripping onto Barbossa and heaving himself up on his feet.

"I'll not kill 'im Bootstrap," he said in a low voice. "Gotta keep te the code, see. Just put 'im out of action, thas' all I'm goin' to do. You'll play no part in it, if thas what makes yeh 'appy."

Happy? No that didn't make William happy, of course it didn't. He looked right into Barbossa's eyes, hating him with every ounce of strength he had.

"You'll pay for this Barbossa. You'll regret doin' it, its not right. Yeh'll get whats comin' to yeh so you will."

Barbossa laughed. "Maybe Bootstrap, maybe. But not today." And he walked away still laughing, William staring after him.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: Don't own it. Can't even set loose the mooring line.**

**Chapter 7 - Mutiny!**

The sun had gone down and it was cold. Icy cold. The wind had picked up a little but so far there was no sign of an actual storm, though from what could be seen of the sky it was threatened. So far so good though. Jack peered outside from the safety of his cabin before the start of his watch at the wheel. He spun round as there was a sharp rap at the door and Barbossa appeared.

"Sorry to disturb yeh Captain," he said, "Can I be 'avin' a little word?"

Jack gestured towards his chair, and Barbossa strode into the room, closing the door behind him. He sat down and rested a leg casually up on Jack's table. Jack raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He watched Barbossa as he folded his arms and then his eyes met Jack's.

"Hmmm. And what might I be helping you with Barbossa?" Jack asked, as he approached the table, leaned over his first mate's leg and gripped a bottle of rum from the table. Suddenly thinking it might be a bad idea to drink tonight, he just held it instead of taking a swig. Barbossa seemed to suddenly remember his place and removed his leg from the table, but he retained his otherwise obstinate pose.

"We be headin' further and further into these strange waters Cap'n," he said gravely. "We be seein' the strangest of things sailin' the seas and the gents, they are getting mighty antsy."

Jack nodded and then looked again at Barbossa. "You have a new hat I see," he commented.

Indeed Barbossa did have a new hat. Comandeered from one of the crew, the new hat was not a patch on his old one but it was a similar shape and size and it would do until his share of the treasure bought a better one, perhaps with a feather or two. Barbossa looked puzzled for a second but he wasn't going to be distracted by the captain's tactics.

"The thing is Captain, everything an equal share and to me, that should mean the bearings too." Barbossa held up his hand to Jack as the captain grinned his trademark grin, "Now I know how you feel about this Captain, I do, but what with all the strange happenin's around these parts, we be riskin' life and limb for this venture and we need to know where we're goin.' Is' not a trifling need Jack, it's a desperate wantin' need."

Jack paced a little, his arms raised slightly, the half full bottle of rum still swinging in his hand. For good measure Jack took a swig, just a small one mind and he suddenly stopped, frowned and spun round to face the first mate. Barbossa looked cool, poised and relaxed in Jack's chair with his arms crossed across his chest. Jack was tired, although he refused to show it, and he admitted to himself that this voyage was testing him. The stories he had refused to believe when he first heard them, so far seemed to be true. He sighed and scratched his nose. It was too much to carry this knowledge alone. He needed to share it.

"Very well Barbossa, I shall tell yeh the bearings. But only because I have had a little think about things and your right! It's a bad idea for just ol' Jack to know where we're goin.' So I shall tell yeh. For the good of the crew mind."

"For the good of the crew, right enough," Barbossa nodded grimly. Inside he was dancing.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was probably due to the events of the night before, and trying not to think of what might lay ahead that was making Jack feel a tad uneasy, he figured. He felt troubled but he dismissed it. As he always did. Everything would work out well, as soon as tonight's storm had passed, not that it had even arrived yet. But it was brewing, Jack knew it.

He continued to peer out the cabin windows at the sky above. Oh yes, trouble was brewing.

Up on deck, Barbossa paced with nervous excitement. The Pearl was as good as his and the treasure was within reach now that he knew the bearings to the island. Oh lady luck was smiling indeed. He caught William's eye, and smiled at him. "Bootstrap!" he suddenly barked, making the man jump a mile into the air it seemed. "Can you fetch our fine captain please, seems we be 'avin' a little problem up 'ere we need to sort out."

William swallowed. Was this it then? As he looked at Barbossa's face, his evil, smiling face, he honestly couldn't tell. He trudged slowly towards the cabin steps to fetch his friend and captain, the man he was about to betray. Down to the depths with all of them, he grimaced, they deserved it.

Jack grinned at him as he entered the cabin nervously. If he could tell William wasn't himself, he didn't show it. William quickly scanned Jack's cabin. A bottle lay on its side on the table, obviously empty. Ah. That explained Jack's happy face then. And if he had drunk a bottle of rum he obviously didn't mind not being a full piece of eight, as it were, which would only mean one thing. Barbossa knew the bearings too. William sighed to himself as he quietly confirmed in his mind what he already knew. Jack's lucky streak had betrayed him and he was about to lose his ship. He hoped with all his heart that Barbossa had meant what he said about not killing the man. William couldn't fully trust himself not to intervene otherwise, despite his longing to get back in once piece to see his family.

"Problem up on deck Jack," he murmured, his head hung low. He couldn't bear to look the man in the face. And he couldn't believe Barbossa had asked him to do this. The low down, dirty………

"Very well William. Lead the way then! Come come…." Jack stepped forward, sprightly and eager.

William trudged back up the steps, Jack behind him. Twice he almost turned round and shouted a warning to his friend to run, hide, do something but he knew that it was futile. Where could they go, realistically? Wedge themselves in the cabin? Wouldn't be long before the crew smashed their way in. Jump over the side of the ship? They wouldn't be alive for long doing that. Too many to take on at the point of a sword, and Barbossa was a better swordsman than both William and Jack anyway. Maybe better just to sit back, see what happened and then make a stand later. Yes that might about do it.

It quickly became apparent that there was indeed a problem up on the deck and it was quite a major one too. As Jack followed William, his entire crew slowly moved in and surrounded him and then Barbossa appeared, pushing his way through the men. He stood in front of Jack, his arms crossed again and looked him up and down as if he was the vilest creature to ever sail the seas. Jack was suddenly edgy although he tried not to show it. He straightened his hat and became slowly very aware that he had left his cutlass behind in his cabin. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid.

"Is there a problem lads?" Jack asked, clearing his throat.

Barbossa threw back his ugly head and laughed heartily. The crew surrounding Jack joined in, as his eyes darted from to another to another, trying desperately to find a friendly face among them. He found none. And where the hell had William gone?

Barbossa suddenly stopped laughing and stared at Jack once more, savouring the moment that he had waiting for, for three long nights on this voyage and way beyond. In the dark his eyes seemed black and evil, like endless pits. He stepped forward and Jack inched back slightly, trying to maintain a safe distance. Barbossa could see that Jack was rattled despite his cool demeanour, although that was dropping by the second.

Barbossa draped his filthy arm around Jack's shoulders. "It seems the men 'ere have a had a bit of re-think 'bout our situation **_Captain_**," he spat the last word as if venom. "We ave' taken a vote and it would appear, I am sorry to say, that they would prefer another in charge of our venture." He stepped away from Jack and spun around on him again, drawing his sword as he did so.

Jack swallowed and wrinkled his nose in distaste. He inched backwards a little more, only to collide with someone he probably called a friend only yesterday. That someone gripped the top of his arms and held him fast as Barbossa came closer with his sword.

Jack was still able to move his forearms, and he brought up his hands and pointed with both index fingers to the crew, his eyes narrowing. "You all feel the same do yeh? Yeh feel ol' Jack is not servin' your best interests as Captain?" There was a murmour and some of the crew looked around at each other but no one dared reply.

Jack knew the answer already. As he looked at Barbossa, he knew. The man he had recruited, down on his luck, who had had the most unfortunate time, had been thrown off his ship and left to swim ashore, but no one caring if he hadn't ever got there, he had all but gone and stood before him was a vile, dirty fighter. A man who would lie, cheat and stop at nothing to get what he wanted. Well, he was a pirate Jack supposed. Barbossa even seemed taller now somehow, and Jack knew he probably couldn't beat Barbossa with a sword, not that he had one currently. He had the bloody rum to blame for that, knocking him off his guard. Damn it.

Jack felt very cold as he suddenly realised that Barbossa could be planning in fact, to throw him off the ship as had been done to him and they were in the middle of the bloody ocean sailing into troubled waters. There was a sudden clap of thunder and it began to rain. Oh just fantastic.

Barbossa looked up at the rain and turned back to Jack his eyes flashing, and his face suddenly more alive than it had ever been. Yes this had been planned alright, right from the beginning. Jack knew that now. He was going to lose The Pearl, the treasure, everything. The Pearl, his beloved ship. Oh God. Oh God. Nevertheless he kept his gaze straight at Barbossa's eyes. He would never let the man know he was worried. Never.

"Lock him in the brig. We'll deal with him in tha' mornin." Barbossa snarled, and he strode off past Jack, giving him a nasty swipe across the head as he went. It didn't hurt him, it was the gesture that did the damage.

Quickly the men dispursed and William, of all people reappeared, his shoulders drooped and his head low. Jack eyed him thoughtfully. William, his most trusted friend on the ship. The man was outnumbered, even the two of them together could not take on Barbossa and his entire crew. Hah. Barbossa's crew. How quickly the tide turned.

"I'm so sorry Jack," William muttered as he tied Jack's wrists together in front of him. He took his friend's shoulder and nodded to the man still holding onto Jack to move away. "Won' be necessary," he said, knowing Jack was unlikely to try anything. Jack whipped his head around to see who had been behind him, well it was none other than Ragetti! Bloody Ragetti with his inexperience, and his bloody one eye. Well well well.

Barbossa had already taken up residence at the wheel and he waved cheerfully as Jack was led away by his friend. He walked alongside William and after disappearing below decks, let his friend lock him in the brig as the rains became heavier above. Well, let "Captain" Barbossa steer the ship through this one, Jack thought. It would appear not to be his problem anymore, he thought bitterly.

"Jack…" William said, and then stopped. In truth he had no clue what to say to the man. This was so wrong and there was nothing he could do about it. William had been hoping that it wasn't going to happen, that Barbossa would think better of it or that Jack would have taken Barbossa on and chopped his bloody head off, or chucked him off the ship. In reality William had known this couldn't happen, Jack, as good a fighter as he was with his instincts was never going to win Barbossa or even come close to it. And he could never take on the entire crew and win, especially with a bottle of rum inside him. Yet William had been hoping, as he stood at the back of the crew surrounding his friend, trying to shrink into the background and pretend it wasn't happening, hoping that Jack would pull something out of his bag of tricks. Ah, not this time it seemed.

Jack stood just on the other side of the bars, peering out at William. "I don' hold it against you Bootstrap," he said, and was smiling, _smiling _sadly at his friend who had betrayed him. William hung his head, he could not bear to look at Jack in the eye. "You gotta do whas' right by you, can't expect any more than that." Jack put his face right next to the bars and almost whispered to William, "You got a family at home, waitin' for yeh. Yeh get that treasure and yeh take it to em' Bill, ya' hear me? Don' stay with this idiot."

William looked up slowly and stared into Jack's eyes, still bright despite his current desperate situation. He nodded, hardly trusting himself to speak. "I will Jack. I will. I couldn' do anythin' I didn't want to do this, I said no, but he, Barbossa, he told em' all you couldn't be trusted to get us there and we were all goin' to die tryin.' I knew it wasn't true but they believed him, yeh know how stupid some of em' are and the rest are just too scared of 'im…" he sighed and shook his head in desperation.

Jack nodded. "S'alright Bill. I understand. Jus' don' do anything stupid."

William slowly climbed the steps back to the deck and Jack stared after him. He understood completely that his friend could do nothing to help him and he would not have thanked him for it had he tried. There would have two of them looking at being thrown overboard no doubt about that.

Jack watched as his William slowly disappeared above and found himself completely alone. But no matter, he thought, trying to be cheerful. He needed to hatch a plan – and quick.

How was he going to get out of this one then?

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

_Many thanks to all who have read this story and for those of you who have taken the time to leave a review - Thank You very much! Its been appreciated more than you know. This is it then – last chapter and just an epilogue to follow and than that's it, onto the next one! _

**Disclaimer: No, I still don't own POTC. Although the wind may blow them back to me one day.**

**Chapter 8 – Goodbye Jack**

Mutiny was probably the ugliest word in the English language. Jack had spent some considerable time trying to come up with a worse one, but had drawn a blank all round. He pulled at his wrists in frustration and grimaced as the rope cut into his skin painfully. He had assumed, wrongly, that William would have tied them loosely to enable him to come up with some kind of escape. But no. Apparently William had not done that at all. He kicked at the door, already knowing that it wouldn't budge an inch. He wasn't disappointed there either. Jack sighed and sat down in dismay. This was really beginning to be a problem now. It just wasn't funny at all.

Jack raised his hands and scratched his head thoughtfully. If he could get himself out of the brig somehow, unlikely, what could he do anyway? He had no weapon. He was vastly outnumbered. And there was another storm overhead, quite a big one judging by the way he had been thrown around for the last couple of hours. Not an amusing pastime with one's hands tied together, therefore having nothing to break the falls with. Not funny at all. He would have bruises upon bruises tomorrow.

Ah. Tomorrow. Now that was going to be interesting. What was going to happen to him? Jack was nervous, no doubt about it. Barbossa had shown his true colours now and they were about as appealing as the jolly roger itself, strung up for all to see. The man had single handedly turned the entire crew, save for William, against Jack. That was a clever thing true enough and in entirely other circumstances, might have been rather impressive Jack mused. So what were they going to do to him then? Beat him half to death and throw him off the ship in the middle of the ocean? Keel hauling? Slit his throat and throw him off the ship? A fight to the death with Barbossa, which Jack would win, then throw Barbossa off the ship? Hmmm. Perhaps not, unfortunately.

Jack looked carefully around him. Difficult in the darkness, they hadn't even left him a lantern. The Pearl lurched again and he fell sideways, hitting his head on the floor.

"Bugger," he muttered to himself but saw no real reason to get up again, so Jack rolled over onto his back and stared out, albeit upside down,of the porthole above, at the night beyond. Not as stormy as the previous evening perhaps, but hard work to steer through nonetheless.

Jack lay on the floor for what felt like a long time, his bound wrists wresting on his stomach, thinking. Obviously he would not get his share of the treasure now – that was a real shame. He had lots of plans for that gold. Probably more plans than his share would amount to, to be fair but now there would be nothing at all.

But then, he thought, Barbossa was probably planning on killing him anyway. Well not Barbossa himself probably, more likely one of the men. He might make William do it, he was nasty enough. Ragetti or Pintel perhaps? No, that was foolish thinking. Blindfolded and with his arms and legs tied together, Jack could beat those two idiots. More likely William or Barbossa himself if he could muster up the enthusiasm. It really depended on how much he hated Jack, he seemed to hate him quite a lot in this current set of circumstances. He might take great pleasure in killing the man himself. Or he might think it good fun and sport to watch his friend do it.

Jack tried to prop himself up on his elbows but quickly found he didn't have enough free arm to do it, so he sat up cross legged instead. He wondered if it were possible for a man to go mad overnight with too much thinking and wondering over circumstance. If it was possible, he hoped it would happen soon so that he didn't actually care too much when they came down to the brig for him. He noticed he could see slightly better and realised it was starting to get light.

Jack jumped as he became aware that William was running down the steps towards him. He stood up quickly, hoping that William was coming to let him out. As Bill came to an abrupt halt on the wrong side of the bars, it became apparent he wasn't.

"Jack," he hissed, "The damn white ship! It's back! Barbossa wants to attack!"

Jack smiled. Of course Barbossa wanted to attack it. Why negotiate when you can blow holes in the side of a ship? It made no sense at all.

"Well, I do apologise for pointin' out the obvious William, but I'm sort of not in a position to do anythin' about it really am I?" Jack held up his wrists, as if in confirmation, then turned around and looked out of the porthole to see if he could see anything. He could make out the hull of the other ship, as white as the Pearl herself was black. An unnatural, ghostly white.

"Where the blazes are her crew I wonder?" Jack muttered. And then Jack saw something. And stared. A man stood at the wheel of the white ship. He wore a large hat, tilted, with feathers and a long coat. On his broad shoulder sat a monkey. Neither the man nor the monkey seemed to have noticed the Pearl, nor did they look in it's direction, but the man stared out to see as if deep in thought. As the moonlight cut through the cloudy sky onto the white ship, it revealed the man's features to be skeletal. How could this be? Jack's eyes widened and he could not tear himself away from the image. He could hear many shouts and cries above and he knew the crew were witness to the same thing that he was.

"Jack? What is it Jack?" Jack almost turned, he had forgotten William was there with him too, but he could not turn himself away from what he was seeing. Ship of the dead indeed, yet if it was a ship of the dead, it seemed a rather peaceful dead with no real intention of harm towards the Pearl. As Jack stared out, the white ship slowly faded again, as if it had never been there. An odd occurrence for a voyage sailing into cursed and haunted waters.

"Ghosts Bill," Jack sighed, sitting down again. "Or some sort of echo from the past. Or future. Who knows? Who cares?" He looked up slowly into his friend's eyes.

"It's a warnin'" William muttered, "Mark my words, it's a warnin. We been seein' all manner of strange things tonight. Theres an evil in the air…" He stopped, realising the irony of his words would not be lost on Jack.

"You best be getting' back to yeh Captain Bill," Jack said, "They'll be comin' for me soon enough. Do they know yeh down 'ere?"

William shook his head. It was almost light now.

"Bootstrap? Bootstrap! How nice of yeh to assist us like this…"

William snapped his head around to find Barbossa, Pintel and Twigg along with another couple of crew members hovering behind the new captain on the steps. Barbossa grinned at him.

William stepped back in horror, "No, I was jus'…."

Barbossa came forward and threw the key to William, who caught it on instinct. "Well, don' jus' stand there Bootstrap, let 'im out or we're not bein' a very good host now are we?" The others cackled.

Jack stood up. This was it then. Ah well – fine. He wasn't going to go down without a fight. And if it was Barbossa he was fighting, so much the better.

Barbossa expertly drew his cutlass and pointed it at William. Jack's eyes darted from William to Barbossa, then back to William.

"Open the door Bootstrap." Barbossa said quietly. Dangerously.

As William stepped forward, Jack noticed he was unarmed too. He took a step backwards, better for Barbossa to think he was unassuming and not a threat at all. However as William opened the door, Jack charged forward quickly and using both his hands managed to land a punch in Barbossa's face. Not hard enough to knock him over, Jack hadn't managed to swing enough for that, but one of his rings had caught Barbossa under his right eye and blood appeared. Barbossa staggered backwards a little but recovered himself quickly. He had dropped his cutlass but swung a punch back at Jack which hit the man square in the jaw. Jack immediately fell backwards, landing in a heap on the floor, dazed. Two of the crew hauled him to his feet.

Barbossa laughed and wiped his face with the back of his hand. Blood smeared across his cheek, "You got me there Jack, I thought I had yeh sussed. Still no matter, I won' be makin' that mistake again."

Barbossa spun and headed up the steps, the crew members dragging Jack along with them and William behind. Up on deck, it was light now and shaping up to be another sunny day.

The entire crew had gathered up on deck to witness the man's demise. Jack, held fast between the two crew members looked around at the men quickly. No friends among thieves eh! Not one of them was going to try and help him, that was obvious. If Jack couldn't think his way out of this quick sharpish he was going to the locker, this he knew.

"We can't talk about this then Barbossa? Have a drink and a little chat eh? What say you?"

Barbossa shook his head, "Nah, yeh see Jack, that's the attitude that lost yeh the Pearl. Have a good look around now. Cos in a minute yeh'll be partin' company."

Ragetti pushed his way through the throng and handed Barbossa Jack's pistol. Jack brightened at the sight of it. He struggled, if he could get free he could make a grab for it and blow Barbossa's bloody head clean off, but it was no use.

"I'll be leavin' yeh this," Barbossa explained, "Pistol with one shot Jack. Yeh know when a man is marooned, one shot won't do yeh much good fer huntin' but it will 'ave its uses in a few days I reckon." He laughed again. Jack doubted he had ever seen the man so happy, curse him for breathing!

Marooned eh? Jack thought he probably would have preferred to have been run through with Barbossa's sword. Marooned wasn't an easy option. Not a pleasant way to die particularly, thanks to the starvation and the god awful thirst. And a man could go mad with the heat first.

Barbossa waved theatrically out to sea, to an island in the distance. "Came across this by accident we did," he announced. "Don't even know if its on the map Jack. Thas' what makes it special see. It's a sign!" He grabbed Jack's arm roughly and hauled him over to the plank. "Go on then," he yelled, "To yeh new 'ome – fer a bit anyway!"

Jack stepped onto the plank. What other option did he have, realistically? None. He looked lovingly up at the Pearl, took in her every inch. His beloved Pearl. But perhaps a last ditch attempt to stay on board? Jack looked into Barbossa's eyes. "You'd have thought yeh'd need all the savvy men yeh can find with the nightly appearance of our white sailed friend……."

Barbossa threw Jack's pistol into the sea and then, as if losing patience with the whole thing, leant forward and violently shoved Jack. As Jack staggered backwards and fell off the plank, the last thing he saw was William's desperate eyes staring at him, powerless to stop Barbossa and powerless to do anything to help his friend. Jack knew that look. It was a "goodbye" look.

- oOo -

Jack landed in the water awkwardly and was winded for a painful few seconds. He wondered whether it would be best just to give up and take in a few deep breaths of sea water. It would be all over then, and he wouldn't have to give Barbossa the satisfaction of knowing he had successfully marooned Captain Jack Sparrow.

Jack opened his eyes and contemplated this very thought. As he did so, Jack looked down as something caught his eye. His pistol was just out of his reach being held out to him by a figure down in the sea with him. A skeletal figure with long black hair and a red bandana. Jack blinked in the water and wondered for a second if he had already drowned and this was some sort of watery hell he was now entombed in. The skeletal figure was surely an echo of his own dead self? Although, now he thought about it, the figure was grinning at him and actually looked quite happy, if it were possible for a skeletal figure to do such a thing. In confusion and fear, Jack swam to the man and took his pistol, his wrists still tied together and then swam towards the surface. Just before he reached it, he turned. The figure was some distance away now standing, incredibly, at the wheel of a white ship with white sails, under the water away from him. These were strange waters indeed.

Jack reached the surface and gasped in a lungful of air and turned to watch Barbossa sail away on his ship, feeling sadness, anger and all manner of emotions he couldn't put into words. With difficulty, considering he had no proper use of his arms and was holding a pistol that contained only one shot, he began to swim towards the beach of his new "home" – to plan how to get off the godforsaken thing.

THE END


	9. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

There was something vaguely amusing about being attacked by skeletons in the dead of night. There was absolutely no point in fighting back as none of them could die, and that included the man they were attacking. Had the situation not been so serious, it would have made him laugh out loud.

Not that he was in a position to fight back anyway. Strapped to a canon, if he had the sharpest sword in the world it would have done him no good now. No good at all.

Oh yes – it was very amusing alright. If they had been able to threaten him with death, possibly the pirate in him might have cracked under the pressure and told them where it was. As it was, he had nothing to be afraid of. What could they possibly do to him now? Down to the locker with him, they said. Well, it wasn't an idea he particularly fancied, but there were worse things that could happen.

Damn them all, they deserved to be cursed and remain cursed. And he felt safe in the knowledge that they would remain just that, for he knew what they did not – yet. He had seen the scrolls and he knew they needed his blood, as well as the gold piece he had sent away.

And William smiled to himself, as he sank down into the sea, strapped to a canon. Bloody bunch of idiots.


End file.
